


what would you do if i was there?

by darlingofdots



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dulcie texts like a fratboy, Edging, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sexting, Sort Of, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, You Are Allowed To Want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingofdots/pseuds/darlingofdots
Summary: Palamedes is bad at sexting. Dulcie is an Evil Sex Genius. Cam is seduced.
Relationships: Camilla Hect/Dulcinea Septimus, Camilla Hect/Dulcinea Septimus/Palamedes Sextus, Camilla Hect/Palamedes Sextus, Dulcinea Septimus/Palamedes Sextus
Comments: 28
Kudos: 79





	1. Palamedes Is Bad At Sexting

**Author's Note:**

> Because Cam deserves it.

Palamedes says, “Cam. I need your help,” and proffers his phone.

“If this is about texting your girlfriend again, do it yourself, coward.”

“It’s not about texting my girlfriend.”

“Fine.” Cam drops her backpack by the coat rack and accepts the phone. It buzzes in her hand.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

miss me yet? ;)

“… you are a filthy liar.”

“Pretty please. With a cherry on top.” He has the audacity to bat his eyelashes at her, which is a cheap trick that does not even work on Dulcinea, although Cam doesn’t think he’s worked that out yet.

She thrusts the phone back at him. “No way.”

Palamedes very pointedly does not take it. He takes off his glasses instead and tries to polish them on the sleeve of his ratty cardigan. “I’ll owe you dinner.”

“You have your girlfriend saved by her full name and title?”

“It’s not a title.”

“Occupation, then.”

That earns her A Look. “I am begging here, Cam. You know I’m no use at this stuff.”

Cam does know. It would be hard to forget. He really is lucky that he’s cute. She rolls her eyes, sighs, and unlocks the phone with her thumbprint. “Dinner and dessert, Doc.”

“Whatever you want.” He kisses her cheek, too, as she squeezes past him in the narrow hallway to get to the bedroom.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

miss me yet? ;)

**Pal:**

Always.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

what are you doing?

**Pal:**

Writing the grocery list. I owe Cam dinner.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

what would you be doing if I was there?

This is where Palamedes usually turns red as a beetroot and spends five minutes typing and deleting and typing again, which is infuriating and way more endearing than she would ever let on. It’s ironic, really, how much he acts like a blushing virgin. Considering.

Cam sits down hard on the mattress and flops to lie flat on her back.

**Pal:**

What would you want me to do?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

:) kissing me hello would be a start

He always does, too. Not the passing peck on the cheek that Cam gets when he comes home from the lab, either; for Dulcinea, he’s all chivalry.

**Pal:**

I’d take your hands and kiss your palms, then.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

hmm

you can do better than that

**Pal:**

I’d kiss your lips, too.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

better :) i want a proper snog when i get back

i want a lot of things

like bite your lip and wrap my arms around your neck and run my fingers through your hair

**Pal:**

I’d like that.

I’d kiss you back. 

I’d kiss you and tip my head back to let you kiss my neck and hold you tight the way you like.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

nice

you have a very nice neck

where are u rn?

**Pal:**

I’m sitting on the bed. Where are you?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

waiting room, getting results today

go and lie back on the pillows for me

**Pal:**

What kind of results?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

shhhhh

no distractions do as i say

Kicking off her gym shoes, Cam scrambles up the bed. It doesn’t even occur to her not to.

**Pal:**

Okay.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

are u comfy?

**Pal:**

Yes.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

excellent :) i’m going to tell you what to do is that okay?

**Pal:**

Okay.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

it’s only fun if you do it tho so promise me you’ll behave

Fuck. Okay. Cam takes a deep breath. Head first into battle.

**Pal:**

I promise.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

thank you love

im going to sit in your lap straddle your legs and kiss you again

**Pal:**

Can I touch you?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

of course ;) where

**Pal:**

Your hips.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

where else

**Pal:**

Can I take your dress off?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

hmm no

maybe next time :) this is for you

**Pal:**

What about you?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

worry about me some other time indulge me a minute

**Pal:**

Okay, fine.

What do you want me to do?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

im not wearing a bra

if that helps

**Pal:**

Is there something you want to tell me?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

just touch my tits love

i know u want to

and if youre good i’ll take your shirt off and play with your nipples and kiss your neck

**Pal:**

I’ll be good.

Promise.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

of course you will! take your shirt off for me now

run your fingers down your chest as if its me touching you

does that feel good?

**Pal:**

Yes.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

work with me here i need a bit more than that

**Pal:**

It feels very good.

Your nails are longer than mine though.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

hmmm your right

going to trace around your nipples

down to your stomach and up again

gentle pinch

u still with me?

**Pal:**

Yes.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

good :) tell me if its too much

**Pal:**

It’s not too much.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

okay thank you

do that again, three circles, up and down, gentle pinch other side this time

imagine i’m still kissing you biting your neck i want to leave a mark

i’m going to ask you to take your trousers off too if you want

**Pal:**

Give me a minute.

Okay, I’m back.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

hiiii <3

if u need a blanket get one now your flat is always so cold

**Pal:**

I’m not cold, don’t worry about me.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

pants off too actually

while were here

i’m going to touch you now

just play with you for a bit

slow strokes up and down

**Pal:**

That feels good.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

thank u for telling me good job

i should reward you for that what would you like

**Pal:**

I wish I could touch you.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

you won’t have enough hands left love

hope your keeping it up without me telling you btw

slow strokes up and down just the fingertips

circle around the top for me, just like that youre doing so well

i can see you right in front of me you look delicious

**Pal:**

You’re trying to distract me.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

damn right i am and it’s working ;)

i wish i could taste you fuck i would love to get my mouth on you

i bet you taste amazing

**Pal:**

Next time?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

absolutely i can’t wait

bit faster now love

you’re so beautiful like this

you can make noise if you want to i like hearing you

still good?

**Pal:**

yes

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

ahh okay

you can use more pressure if you want, use your whole hand

i want to run my hands through your hair and lick your ear and tell you how beautiful you are

laid out like this just for me

theres so much i want to do to you i could make you feel so good

you deserve to be spoilt you work so hard

deep breaths love in and out

now come for me cam my darling

Fuck.

She actually does.

Cam falls apart to the buzzing of Palamedes’ text alert, hard and fast and half from sheer shock. When she recovers her wits, there are five new messages and she can’t bring herself to look at them. She shoves the phone under the pillow, pulls her clothes back on, and goes to wash her hands and face. She stares at herself in the bathroom mirror, her reflection framed by some chemical formula Palamedes scrawled on the glass that morning with the removable marker they keep in the bathroom for just that purpose. After several minutes, she shakes her head and pulls herself together enough to retrieve the phone.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

just like that just let go

i’m so proud of you that was perfect

are u still there

shit was that too much i’m so sorry

i shouldve said fuck cam talk to me

**Pal:**

I’m here.

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

i am so sorry cam i didn’t mean to cross the line

are u okay?

**Pal:**

How did you know it was me?

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

you’re the only person i know who uses . in texts

and i love pal to bits but he does not sext well

i’ll talk to him

i will never mention this again if you don’t want to

**Pal:**

It’s okay, I think.

It was good. You were good. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it.

You promised next time I could touch you ;)

**Dulcinea Septimus (girlfriend):**

oh my god cam is that a wink

what have i done

but yessss i promised i look forward to it can’t wait ;)


	2. Dulcie Is An Evil Sex Genius.

Camilla has had an objectively shitty day. Even if she didn’t hate night shifts anyway, she’s had to put up with four different people yelling at her about someone else’s mistake, because yelling is the preferred method of conflict resolution of mediocre men who wouldn’t know a well-organised spreadsheet if it bit them. There’d been a multi-car pileup just before her break, so she hadn’t had her break, and by the time she got home she was tired, hungry, and vaguely furious at the world the way one often is after a particularly frustrating day (or in this case, night).

Unfortunately this means that when she throws open the door to their flat and drops her backpack by the coat rack like a grenade, all she wants is to scrub her skin off with a hot shower and spend the next three days asleep. Unfortunately, her boyfriend has other plans.

“We have a surprise for you?” he says, like he’s not quite sure anymore.

Cam kicks her shoes off in the general direction of the cupboard. “Who’s we?”

“Dulcie and I,” he says because he is nothing if not grammatically diligent. It’s obvious that Cam’s flagrant disregard for the rules re: tidying up after yourself has thrown a spoke in his wheel; however he’d been planning for this to go down, this isn’t it.

“I thought she doesn’t get here until tomorrow.” Her hoodie tries to eat Cam’s head but is forced into submission with an irritated yank.

“She doesn’t.” Palamedes pushes his glasses back up his nose and reaches out to grab the offending garment before Cam consigns it to the floor. He hangs it on a clothes hook by the hood and awkwardly pats it flat. “Her first flight lands in thirty minutes and then there’s a two hour layover in Brussels, and we thought we might, ah, use the time.”

Suspicion arises. She narrows her eyes at him. “Use the time how exactly?”

“For a start, I made breakfast, and you need a shower. And then we go from there.”

Cam sighs. “I’ll be honest, Doc, I’ve had a shit night, I just want to wash off the hospital smell and go to sleep.”

“Ah. We thought you might say that.” He pulls out his phone and starts tapping the screen until he finds what he’s looking for. He clears his throat. “’ _We understand that you_ _’re exhausted and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, but if you have the choice between passing out on the sofa watching bad reality TV and’,_ ah.” The tips of his ears turn beetroot red and he clears his throat again. “’… _and getting your brains fucked out so well you lose all sense of time, which would you pick?_ _’”_

“Did Dulcie write that?”

“She most certainly did.”

“I can tell.” Fuck, if it isn’t tempting, though. They’re both busy people at the best of times, her working at the hospital, him all wrapped up in his latest research project, and when Dulcie’s in the country of course he spends his free time with her. Cam understands. And it’s not like she hasn’t felt a lingering, subliminal buzz of nervous excitement ever since The Incident, but she’s _really tired._

Palamedes says, “Furthermore, I was instructed to let you know that ‘ _you have to let him do something good for you in return sometimes, he wouldn_ _’t know how to show his appreciation for you without explicit instructions, which I am happy to provide on this occasion.’_ I also have a video of her batting her eyes and saying ‘pretty please’ but I’ll spare you.”

“That’s generous.”

“Well.” The phone disappears somewhere about his person. He leans forward and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “If you’re sure you don’t want to, I’ll still make breakfast and leave you be.”

Cam stares at her socks, rolls her neck, bites her lip. “Alright,” she says. “Because you asked.”

He beams at her. “Excellent. Assuming you need fifteen minutes to shower and get ready, you have ten minutes to eat.”

As if she hadn’t known that some serious plotting has gone into what is turning into quite the sex ambush, he’s made waffles and heaps a small mountain of strawberries and cream onto her plate. She knows for a fact that he hasn’t touched a waffle iron since her last birthday, which had ended a bit abruptly when someone called the fire brigade about the smoke, but today’s efforts are delicious, golden and fluffy and still warm. She wolfs down two, and a tall glass of water, and then uses her own powers of persuasion to entice Palamedes into the shower with her. The fact that he sets a timer and shoos her out just as the hot water starts to sink through the layers of tension in her back and shoulders is a bit disappointing, but she’s agreed, hasn’t she? She doesn’t back away from a challenge, even when the challenge is letting herself be seduced by her partner and his girlfriend.

He leads her into the bedroom stark naked, and she is reluctantly impressed by the level of preparation; he’s spread their set of designated sex sheets on the bed, laid out a whole range of equipment and toys within easy reach, and the fancy sound system slash charging station set up on the bedside table. Palamedes connects his phone to the dock and folds his skinny legs into a pair of sweatpants. Cam stands in the middle of the room, about to make a snarky comment, when the phone buzzes and almost vibrates out of its nook before Palamedes manages to accept the call.

“Hello, my darlings,” Dulcie’s voice purrs from the speakers, and the hair on Cam’s arms stands up. “Are we all set?”

Cam says, “Hi,” at the same time as Palamedes says, “Not quite.”

“Pal, you fool, what are you waiting for? We’re on a deadline. I have a lot of ideas, you know.”

“Where are you right now?” Cam asks. She’s still naked, and the water dripping slowly from her wet hair is cold on her bare shoulders.

“In an airport café in Brussels, with the most delicious hot chocolate I have ever encountered. I’ll be quite comfortable over here, so we can concentrate entirely on you, love. Did you get your hot shower?”

“She did,” Palamedes interrupts, raking his fingers through his damp hair and blushing.

“Hmm,” Dulcie hums on the other end of the line, “I see. Well then. We have two hours; Cam, I don’t know what he did to persuade you, but you know you can say no, right? I won’t be offended.”

“It’s okay,” Cam says, shrugging even though Dulcie can’t see her. “He didn’t exactly have to bribe me.”

The other woman sighs. “I had hoped for a little more enthusiasm, and one should hope that two hours with me and Pal would be bribe enough, but I’ll take it. I hope you’re not wearing anything, it’d be a terrible waste of time and even just thinking about you hiding yourself away makes me terribly sad.”

Too bewildered to come up with a better response, Cam says: “He wouldn’t let me get dressed.”

The smile in Dulcie’s voice is actually audible. “Excellent.” Cam imagines her rubbing her bony hands together like a cartoon villain. “Go lie down on the bed, then, hm? On your front, please.”

Cam does as she is told, without thinking. The sheets are cool and soft from too many rounds of washing, and the familiar smell of detergent settles her nerves a bit. She startles when Palamedes drapes a blanket over her lower back and legs before gently, as if she was one of his rare and fragile specimen, lifting up her head to place pillow under her shoulders so she can breathe more easily. His hands linger on the back of her neck, just for a moment, before he moves away again.

“Are you comfortable, love?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. What’s your safeword?”

Cam cranes her neck to raise an eyebrow at Palamedes, who shrugs and nods. “Yellow or Red.”

“Pal?”

“Same as her.”

“Thank you. Pal, just as we planned — Cam, darling, just relax, you’ve had a long night. Let us take care of you.”

Behind her, Palamedes makes a noise of agreement. Cam hears a jar being opened, and the slick sound of oil on skin. “Heads-up.” He spreads his hands over her shoulder blades and gives her a second to get used to them before moving on, down her back to the edge of the blanket and up again. The warm, rich scent of cocoa butter fills the room and Cam can’t suppress a sigh.

“You don’t need to do this, you know.” She’s flattered, of course, that they would go to such lengths over something they have clearly been planning for a while, but she can’t stop feeling like it’s unnecessary. Palamedes and her are long past the infatuation phase, where every little touch sends sparks flying. To be quite honest, Cam is not sure they ever _had_ an infatuation phase. They just fell into one another one day, as natural as breathing, inevitable as the turning of the tides. They have never been ones for fussing with this stuff, and she would have been perfectly content to wait until Dulcie arrived tomorrow to figure out what _that_ was all about.

Palamedes makes a humming noise and draws his thumbs along the line of her trapezius. By now, his cheeks must be hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Of course we don’t _have_ to.” Dulcie’s voice is a sing-song through the speakers, light and only a little bit breathy. “But you deserve something nice, and frankly I am tired of waiting to get my hands on you, even by proxy.” She pauses, presumably to take a sip of her drink. “And we’re already here, so we might as well. Try to enjoy yourself.”

The next fifteen minutes or so, Cam tries to enjoy herself. Dulcie is giving instructions over the phone, which Palamedes follows meticulously except for the time he stops to press a kiss to the base of her skull, sending shivers down her back. It shouldn’t feel so bizarre, she thinks when he digs his thumbs into the muscle on either side of her spine and spreads his hands wide and the tips of his long fingers skim the sides of her breasts. She knows his hands better than her own — has known them all her life — and there can’t be an inch of her that he hasn’t touched before, but something about Dulcie’s voice in her ear and the pressure of his touch feels strange and new and a little exciting. If this whole setup had not been so strange, she probably would have fallen asleep; those academic’s hands of his manage what the hot water didn’t have time to accomplish and smooth out a lot of the tension she’s collected over the night, until she feels pleasantly loose and warm.

“There,” Dulcie says eventually, sounding pleased with herself. “How’s that?”

“Good. I feel better.” Almost too good, actually; she’s starting to get suspicious.

“Lovely. Pal, help our girl turn over, and I hope you turned the heating up. We don’t want you catching a chill.”

Before he has the chance, Cam flips over onto her back. Half the blanket bunches up under her but she pushes it away to the side of the bed. He raises an eyebrow at that and puts his finger to his lips in a conspiratorial gesture, nodding towards the phone — so that’s how this is going to play. He won’t tattle this time, and Cam is not entirely sure what Dulcie is supposed to do about it she disobeys, but there is definitely something like a threat hanging in the air now, a current of electricity cutting through the haze of breakfast and the massage.

“Cam, open your legs for me so Pal has somewhere to sit.”

He clambers up onto the bed, all gangly limbs and sharp angles, and settles between her legs, resting his hands just above her knees . He has not taken his glasses off but he’s not wearing a shirt, and she thinks she could almost count his ribs just by looking.

“Everybody comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want you to think about anything,” Dulcie says, and her voice is soft in a way that it never is when she talks to Palamedes. “Nothing but the sound of my voice, okay? Close your eyes, too, no distractions. Pal, dear, tell me if she cheats. Alright. He’s going to put his hands on your ribs and just stay there for a count of three. One. Two. Three. Deep breath, both of you. Just barely brush your thumbs against her tits.”

The breath she just took hisses out of Cam’s lungs.

“He’s good at this, isn’t he? So eager to please. Do it again, one more time.”

Recklessly, Cam opens her eyes just a fraction to watch him. His brows furrowed in concentration, Palamedes complies. She’s only ever seen him look at his research like that, never at her, like he’s mentally counting nanometres and calculating angles.

“Left hand stays where it is,” Dulcie continues. She sounds almost casual, as if she is teaching someone an origami model and not instructing her boyfriend to play with his girlfriend’s tits. “Right hand, slow circles around one nipple, just your fingertips. You like that, Cam, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Cam grits her teeth. He is using barely enough pressure to even register, the merest ghost of a touch, and it’s just enough that she wants to arch her back to chase the sensation. She wrestles the impulse under control and lies impassive, focusing on the reassuring weight of his other hand.

“I thought so. We’re going to make you feel so good, darling, I promise. Both hands, Pal, keep it slow, and if you think she deserves it give her a flick — ahh, I heard that. Well done.” She is practically purring now, like a cat that got into the cream. “Don’t hold back, love, make as much noise as you want, I want to hear you if I can’t see or touch. Or taste.” By instinct or coincidence, this last comes just as Palamedes gently pinches her nipple again, and Cam lets out another hissing breath.

“Come here.” Cam reaches for his shoulders to draw him in but he hesitates.

“Dulcie?”

“What do you want, Cam?”

To shut herself up so she doesn’t have to think about how much this is working for her. “I just want to kiss him,” she says, shocked to find how true that is; it suddenly feels like an eternity since he kissed her, and she misses him, despite the fact that he’s been touching her almost non-stop for over thirty minutes, if you count the brief interlude in the shower.

Dulcie hums and, magnanimously, allows it. In another small act of rebellion, Cam sits up and cradles Palamedes’ face in her hands, and nips at him until he opens up and lets her lick into his mouth. She strokes her tongue against his exactly the way he likes it to make him moan into her mouth. He still has his hands on her and shifts to cup her breasts, thumbs on her nipples, and Cam leans into his touch with something like desperation. She has felt a little at sea ever since she walked into the flat. This is much closer to known territory.

They only break apart when Dulcie coughs — not the hacking, wheezing cough she’s so prone to, but a deliberate, genteel sort of noise intended to draw attention. “I see I’m not keeping you two nearly busy enough. Camilla, you obstinate fool, don’t you trust me?”

She replies without thinking: “Of course.”

“Lovely. Sit your delightful little butt back down and let us do our jobs, okay? Palamedes?”

“Yes?” His glasses are crooked, smudged a little with damp from Cam’s fringe, and his face and chest are flushed bright red. He is breathing hard, but immediately composes himself at Dulcie’s question.

“Someone is clearly being contrary today. Let’s give her something to think about.”

Before Cam can protest, before she can even fully comprehend this, she’s been told to lie down and keep her hands clutching the pillow “or we shall have to tie you up,” which she hopes is a promise as much as a threat, and once again she obeys, staring at the ceiling. Dulcie has clearly decided on a change of plans and tells Palamedes to get on with it instead, which turns out to involve his thumb on her clit and his other hand idly stroking her without apparent purpose, until Dulcie says “two” and he pushes two fingers inside her, following the same rhythm as his thumb. She hadn’t noticed how wet she is already, just from the merest crumbs of attention, and because he knows her as well as she knows him it takes less than five minutes to coax her to the edge and over. She comes with a low moan, still gritting her teeth, and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see how smug he looks.

“Well done,” Dulcie tells Palamedes, and then: “You are so gorgeous, Cam, so beautiful, I wish you could hear yourself. You don’t have to hold back for me, you know, I _want_ you to enjoy this and if you aren’t, just say the word and I’m gone, but _fuck_ , we could do magic together if you let us. You don’t have to do anything. Just trust me. Can you do that?”

And Cam says yes. Because she is still riding the high of that orgasm, because Dulcie clearly wants to, because she’s tired, and most importantly because there is something so tantalising, so seductive about it; she cannot remember ever being told to just lie back and let herself be touched, not having to do or say or remember anything, being treated like a precious, exquisite thing. Palamedes loves her; this she knows with absolute, iron certainty. He has always loved her as she has always loved him, one way or another, but they share a different kind of intimacy. She has seen the way he looks at Dulcinea with something almost like reverence — he has never looked at Cam like that and she would not want him to, but just this once…

She nods, then remembers herself. “Yes. I can do that. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, darling. You’re doing so well. Do you want us to tie you up? To make it easier?”

Cam swallows hard. She can feel her heartbeat drumming in her throat. “Please.”

“Thank you,” Dulcie says, and: “I’m so proud of you for asking for that. Always ask for what you want, my love.”

This should be familiar, even commonplace. They keep a set of adjustable leather cuffs for just this purpose, although it’s Palamedes who wears them more often than not. It takes him longer to get them on Cam’s wrists than it would have taken her, but he doesn’t complain, just furrows his brows again. His touch is clinical as he adjusts and fixes the straps, methodical, looping the rope around the bedposts and tugging at the knots to make sure they’re secure. Instinctively, Cam flexes, testing the restraints. There is barely any give, and that’s a relief, for some reason she can’t quite articulate.

Palamedes leans forward and shifts the cuff on her left wrist so the D-ring doesn’t dig into her arm, which she had not even noticed yet. While he’s down there, he presses a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. “I love you,” he says, grinning now like somebody has turned on the light in his plain, easy features. “You know that, right?”

Cam’s pulse is still drumming like mad. Of course she knows; still, his words are burning in her mind. All she can do is nod, but that seems to be enough. He takes his position between her legs again, hands on her knees, thumbs tracing tiny circles on the soft skin of her inner thighs. “All set.”

On the phone, and in an airport café in Brussels, Dulcie says: “Well done, both of you. I wish I could see this; it really is a shame that airport wifi is never quite good enough for video. Oh well. Next time, perhaps.”

The mere thought that there might be a next time makes Cam shiver. Before the cuffs went on, she had been overwhelmed already despite barely anything happening, just on the edge of calling it all off, but the pressure on her wrists and the knowledge that she could not move her arms if she tried has settled her enough that she can think about the next ten minutes with something like calm anticipation rather than the tangle of nerves from earlier. Whatever the two of them have planned for her, there is nothing she can do about it, and instead of the anxiety she expects to well up at that thought, there is only mild curiosity.

“Cam, darling, are you still with me?”

She has to make an effort to rouse herself to respond. “I’m here. I’m good.”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Well done. Say something as soon as that changes and we’ll fix it. Pal, my love, on your stomach, hands on her hips, put that glorious mouth of yours to use.”

She always forgets how good he is at this. She inhales deeply when she feels his breath on her cunt, and then his lips and tongue and fuck, it feels _good,_ hot and wet and not enough and too much all at once. Palamedes flattens his tongue against her, a slow, deliberate stroke, and when she instinctively plants her feet flat on the bed he wraps his arms around her legs and holds her down with his hands on the gentle curve of her belly. Cam tips her head back and closes her eyes, every cell of her body concentrated on his touch.

“Take it slow,” Dulcie tells him. “Don’t go near her clit yet, I want to draw this out for as long as possible. Cam, you’re so quiet, you don’t have to be; let it out, darling, let me hear you.”

Palamedes pushes inside her and Cam couldn’t hold back the moan if she wanted to.

“Beautiful.” Dulcie sighs. “I do wish I was there. I would kiss you until you’re gasping for breath, gasping for me, and I would run my fingers through your hair and kiss your neck. I would leave my mark on you so you have to remember me every time you look in the mirror. You’re close already, aren’t you? He really is a devil. Hold on for me, love, don’t come until I tell you. You can do it, I know you can, make me proud.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s it, you’re doing so good — Pal, stop.”

And he stops, the mad bastard. Just like that, he’s gone, sitting back on his haunches with his nose and chin glistening. Cam feels the loss of contact so keenly she might scream. “What’s that for?”

Dulcie chirps, “Just checking in,” and Cam almost does scream. “We have all the time in the world, my love, no need to rush. Are you ready? Here we go, gentle now.”

For the next thousand years, Dulcie whispers utter filth in her ear while Palamedes works her to maddening heights, and every time Cam thinks she is about to finally, finally come, they stop. Once, they wait in silence, both of them breathing heavily, while Dulcie calmly orders another hot chocolate — vanilla syrup and whipped cream — and chitchats with the waiter in bubbling French, and another time the interruption is so sudden that Cam loses her grip and almost kicks Palamedes in the ribs. He yelps in surprise, alerting his girlfriend, who can’t suppress a giggle when he explains what happened.

“I suppose you deserved that,” she concedes. “We have been very cruel, have we not, Cam? Poor thing. I’m afraid we shall have to punish you for this — let’s take a break for a minute, get our breath back. Pinch her for me, Pal, somewhere fun.”

With an apologetic shrug that does not match his boyish grin, he reaches up to poke her in the ribs, where he well knows she is horribly ticklish, and laughs when she tries to kick him again. “You’ll regret this,” she says, the threat only somewhat undercut by the fact that she’s tied up and so turned on she could barely defend herself against a particularly determined fruit fly.

“I’m sure I will. Tomorrow.”

And then he goes back to his place between her legs, licking and sucking and driving her utterly mad in the process. Cam has no idea how much time has passed and is only vaguely aware of the rest of her body at all, except when he smooths his hands up and down her stomach or turns his head to nuzzle at the inside of her thigh, and even that is merely an extension of what he is doing with his mouth. Every nerve is alight with electric, delirious sensation. She is much too far gone to care about what she looks or sounds like. She still hasn’t been allowed to come, Dulcie interrupting whenever she gets too close, and there is something about the way she asks her to hold back that makes it impossible not to do as she says. At least she let him pay attention to Cam’s clit somewhere along the line, so it’s not quite as torturous as it could be. She starts swearing, anyway.

“You’re being so patient,” Dulcie croons, despite abundant evidence to the contrary. “Thank you for indulging us, darling, you’ve done so well. I’m so proud of you. I’ll reward you next time, I think,” she muses, as Palamedes’ tongue returns to Cam’s clit with infuriating persistence. “I’ll fuck you until you forget your own name and let you lick my fingers clean. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can tell, just from that noise you just made. I can almost see you, with your arms up like that, on those horrid bedsheets of yours, trembling with want and lust and clenching around my fingers —”

As if on cue, Palamedes slips two fingers inside her, which is barely enough, and Cam actually whines until he adds a third, all the while maintaining the rhythm with his lips and tongue. He starts slowly, gently thrusting, building the pressure and the tension coiling up in Cam’s body like a spring ready to break, and Dulcie says: “Let go now, love, let go, come for me,” and she’s gone, crashing into oblivion with her eyes screwed shut and a low, drawn-out moan.

When she remembers herself, Dulcie is still humming praise over the speakers and Palamedes has undone the ropes holding her arms in place. He’s wiped his hands and face on a towel and is brushing her sweaty hair from Cam’s face with one hand, the other on her throat to feel her pulse, because he can’t help himself. He looks unbearably smug. “That was perfect,” he says. “You were perfect.” He gathers her up a little clumsily to help her sit up and holds a glass of water to her lips. She drains half of it without breathing, suddenly parched.

“Cam, my love, how are you feeling?” Dulcie asks.

Cam swallows hard and licks her lips. “Good. Green.” She feels as though they actually have managed to fuck her brains out; her voice is hoarse and her legs are still shaking a little.

“We can stop here, or keep going. We still have some time, but if you’re done, you’re done. I don’t want you to exhaust yourself because you don’t think you can say no.”

Taking another sip of water, Cam considers this. “I’m fine,” she says. “We can keep going.” She can’t imagine _where_ this is going, but she knows she doesn’t want it to be over yet. At some point she can’t quite pin down, this little experiment has stopped being about indulging the two of them and become about Cam instead, and she’s not done.

It turns out, it’s Palamedes’ turn first. Dulcie makes him take off his sweatpants, then has the two of them arrange themselves so Cam is sitting up against the headboard, the cuffs still on her wrists but not attached to anything. Palamedes with his knees on either side of her legs, Dulcie is delighted to confirm, puts them at just the right height and angle for Cam to take him into her mouth without any great contortions. He is achingly hard and shudders when Cam swirls her tongue around the tip of his cock with deliberate slowness.

“Cam, dear,” Dulcie says, unprompted, “you’re not on parade. Relax your shoulders.”

Withdrawing, Cam protests. “I am relaxed.”

“No, she’s not.”

She swats at his thigh. “Traitor.”

“You started it.”

“Children, please. Get back to the blowjob. It’s like herding cats with you two. Pal, while Cam is busy, do me a favour and tell me what she looks like down there, I’m so sorry to miss it.”

It’s obvious that he has to pull himself together in order to respond, because Cam also knows what she’s doing, but he manages. “She’s perfect,” he says again, and: “Her eyes are so dark, and I can see that birthmark on her shoulder that I told you about.” Cam swirls her tongue again, increasing her speed, and he grips the top of the headboard and says, “fuck, Cam, you’re so good, you’re so beautiful, you mad magnificent girl —”

Cam can feel her ears burning, can feel the litany of compliments going to her head, so she puts her head down and sets about driving him even a fraction as insane as he did for her. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer, after that, but he pulls back just when she thinks he’s close, hanging his head for a moment, breathing hard. He sinks down to straddle her legs and cradles Cam’s face in his hands. When she meets his gaze, his eyes are so bright and full of an emotion she doesn’t dare name that she feels tears prickling at the corners of her own. He kisses her before they can spill over, tenderly, as if he is afraid he might break her.

Forgetting herself, forgetting everything, Cam takes him by the shoulders and pushes him down to lie flat on his back. She follows him down, nipping at his bottom lip, and leans into him to press their bodies together, skin to skin. She can feel his heart beat against her chest, strong and steady, if fast, and the rise and fall of his breath. “I want you inside me,” she says, and corrects herself: “I need you inside me.”

They both startle when Dulcie clears her throat again, delicately, as if trying not to interrupt. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” she chimes, but she does not sound disappointed, as Cam feared. “Thank you so much, both of you, for letting me be part of this. I’ll see you tomorrow!” And with that, she’s gone, and they’re alone in their bedroom at last.

It’s too quiet, suddenly, until Palamedes bucks his hips and groans, “ _Cam,_ _”_ and she remembers he’s still hard and desperate underneath her. Shifting to her knees, she lines herself up and sinks down, revelling in the sensation of fullness, of him inside her and under her and his hands on her hips, gripping her tight enough that she’ll have bruises there later. At some point he sits up and wraps his arms around her to hold her close, kissing her neck in just the right spots, scraping his teeth over her skin. She grinds down against him, matching her movements to the rhythm of his thrusts, until they’re both panting and desperate, and tumble over the edge within moments of each other.

At some point, Cam wakes up enough to drag them both out of bed and into the bath to clean up, and then to curl up on the sofa with their limbs tangled together so she can’t quite tell where she ends and he begins. He fishes the TV remote from between the cushions and somehow manages to put on _Aristocats_ before dozing off again, Cam’s head on his shoulder and his hand splayed possessively over her midsection. It’s too warm, and his elbow is digging into her ribs, but Cam closes her eyes anyway, counting his breaths, and drifts off before the first musical number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments on chapter 1! One more to go after this, happy new year everybody!


	3. Cam Is Seduced.

**Dulcie:**

good morning beautiful <3 did you sleep well?

**Cam:**

What’s this about?

**Dulcie:**

nothing just saying good morning

**Cam:**

You don’t have to do that.

**Dulcie:**

but you deserve it love <3

[seen 8:27]

“When did I say Dulcie’s train gets in?”

Cam doesn’t need to check her calendar. “Quarter past ten.”

Palamedes looks at the digital clock on their oven and pulls a face. “That’s soon.”

“It is,” Cam agrees. “Which is why I’m fully dressed and ready to go.”

Palamedes, very pointedly, is not. He’s got a pen perched behind each ear and splotches of dried toothpaste stuck on his chin because Cam refused to kiss him until he brushed his teeth; he’s wearing a t-shirt with the neckline stretched out to his collarbones and, for some unfathomable reason, a pair of Cam’s gym shorts. He is an absolute mess, and would probably not be let into any respectable establishment within a ten mile radius, and Cam loves him so much her heart might burst. She retrieves the pens, takes him by the shoulders, and steers him towards the bedroom.

“At least put some decent clothes on,” she tells him, and pats his bum as she does so. He gives an affronted yelp and, predictably, his ears turn red. Cam has to force herself to return to the kitchen to finish putting the breakfast dishes away. She has no interest in explaining to Dulcie that they’re late to pick her up because Cam jumped their boyfriend in the hallway — she’d laugh herself into a coughing fit, for one thing.

Fifteen minutes later, they are rumbling down the one-way system on the way to the train station, Palamedes nursing a thermos of coffee while Cam tries to dodge the potholes. They’ve removed one of the back seats to make room for Dulcie’s wheelchair and Cam used the time it took Palamedes to dress to clear the hallway and air out the guest room. With deadly, ruthless efficiency, Cam manages to snag the parking spot closest to the station entrance right under some guy in a Mercedes’ nose and goes to feed the meter while Palamedes checks which platform they need to go to. It is cold and grey in the early spring morning and Cam pulls the backup umbrella out of the boot of the car before they walk down.

There are two separate lifts to get from the platform across to the station entrance hall, and Dulcie emerges overshadowed by the looming hulk of Protesilaus, who is dragging her battered suitcase behind him and frowning. Protesilaus always frowns; it has nothing to do with his mood but rather a strategy to get people to stay the hell away from him. Cam cuffs him in the arm, companionably, to distract herself from Palamedes’ awkward bow over Dulcie’s hand to kiss her palm. He’s never been one for public displays of affection, and today of all days Cam feels suddenly bashful. She takes over charge of the luggage and doesn’t bother with small talk.

“Come say hello properly, Cam, what kind of welcome is this?” Dulcie chides from her chair so Cam obediently goes to kiss her cheeks; she looks good, she thinks, with some colour in her cheeks that isn’t feverish, more solid than she did the last time she came to visit. “Pro is heading right back to Kent,” Dulcie says, “He only came to drop me off.”

“That’s very generous,” Palamedes says, shaking the hulking man’s hand with his usual grave formality.

Dulcie makes a dismissive gesture. “Nonsense. He enjoys train rides, don’t you, Pro?”

Protesilaus nods. “There is an alluring tranquillity to the experience,” he says. “I appreciate the time to ponder the uncaring inevitability of the infinite cosmos.”

“He writes _poetry_ when he’s by himself,” Dulcie says when he has turned to head back to the platforms, as if she is imparting a great, salacious secret. “It’s quite good, actually. He read me some last night, after dinner. Mia made lamb chops. It was frightfully domestic.”

“Are you going back to theirs after?” When Dulcie comes to visit, it’s usually in conjunction with a lengthy stay at the Ebdoma’s rose orchard, ostensibly for her lungs. Cam suspects her family just want her out of the way, where they can’t hear her opinions.

“Oh, yes, but just for a little bit. The cardiologist wants me back home for the winter, which I am planning to argue about the next time I see him. Oh, well done, Cam, who did you stab for that parking spot?”

Cam shrugs and makes a vague noise, then starts loading Dulcie’s suitcase and wheelchair. Palamedes holds the car door open and climbs in after his girlfriend, and Cam knows for a fact that he will spend the entire ten minute drive back home with her hand carefully enveloped in his. She concentrates on the road and tries to tune out the urgent whispering from the back seat, knowing that they would tell her if she had to know. They squeeze into the lift up to their flat, Cam awkwardly standing half on top of the suitcase so they all fit.

Once their visitor is settled in the guest room, which they furnished specifically for her when they moved in, Cam turns to survey the fridge and give the two of them some time to catch up, but Dulcie stops her with a hand on her arm.

“Pal, my love,” she says, her startling blue eyes never leaving Cam’s, “how about you run to the shops and get something fun for dinner? My treat.”

Instantly, Cam is on guard. She doesn’t want to be; there is no real reason to be scared, but suddenly there is a block of ice in her stomach. To counter it, she makes tea. While the kettle boils, she stands on tiptoes at the cabinet to fish for Dulcie’s mug, which is taller than regular mugs and has a grainy picture of a tulip field on it. No teabags right now — there is fancy loose leaf Assam in the cupboard and counting out spoonfuls requires enough concentration to disrupt the spiral of _what ifs_ for a minute or so. The half packet of digestives left over from two days ago is sacrificed for the purpose, but when Cam carries the tray around the counter to the living area, Dulcie has already arranged herself on the sofa with her feet drawn up and is looking at her expectantly.

“I think we should talk, darling,” she says, patting the cushion next to her.

Dulcie sheds endearments like a cat sheds hair; generously, leaving a fine coating on everyone she comes across. Cam knows this. It shouldn’t mean anything anymore, but each ‘darling’ and every ‘my love’, no matter how casual, sends a little thrill down her spine. Setting the tray on top of Palamedes’ latest lab report, Cam perches on the edge of the sofa, alien in her own flat.

“I hope you’re not angry with Pal.”

Cam blinks. “Why would I be angry with him?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She picks a piece of fluff from the hem of her cardigan. “You seem to be upset about something, and I just wanted to make sure my self-indulgent scheming hadn’t sown any discontent.”

“I’m not upset,” Cam says, though she’s not entirely sure. The tea hasn’t steeped long enough and it’s too hot, but she takes a sip anyway. It scalds her tongue.

“Alright.”

“I’m confused, I suppose.” She shrugs. “I don’t understand why. You both went to such trouble, for me, and I don’t understand why. You don’t have to.”

Leaning forward, Dulcie puts her mug down, a little precariously, on miraculously empty corner of the coffee table. “Of course we don’t have to, love. That’s not the point. You’re a very attractive woman, you’re smart and funny and just generally wonderful, is it such a surprise that people want to do nice things for you? I’ve been flirting with you for _years_.”

“You have?”

“Of course! But you never seemed to notice, or care, so I figured you weren’t interested. But I’m not blind, Cam. I don’t know what it is that makes you pull back every time you get too close, but I promise you can tell me. I won’t be mad. If you would rather pretend nothing happened, I can do that, too.”

“It’s not…” Cam stops. She rakes her fingers through her hair and scrubs at her nose with the heel of her hand. She isn’t usually like this, and she hates it. “I don’t want to pretend nothing happened,” she says.

Dulcie visibly brightens. “Good! I’m so glad. I know I said I would, but it would have been a real shame. You are something else, Cam, and it would have been such a waste.”

Heat rises in her cheeks as if somebody has thrown too many logs on the fire. “I did enjoy it, you know. What you two set up.”

“I thought you might. Pal is a marvel; smartest man I’ve ever met, and such a darling, but I know for a fact that he would not know seduction if it bit him in the arse.”

Cam laughs with a snort and has to put down her mug. It’s true; with all his intelligence, and as much as she loves him, Palamedes Sextus has never quite understood the art of romance. Which is fine — she doesn’t need romance from him. She says as much, but Dulcie waves an impatient hand. It’s an impressive gesture, accompanied by the chime of bracelets and a great fluttering of sleeves.

“It’s not just about need, Cam,” she says, and Cam goes very quiet. “Do you know why I send you silly messages in the morning? Because I know that last month, three days in a row, the only messages he sent you were ‘do you know where I put my glasses’ and frankly, you deserve to be _wooed_. I’m just offering to do the wooing.”

“It’s always been him and me,” Cam says. Her throat is dry but she doesn’t dare to take another sip of tea. This, she feels, is the heart of the matter, and she needs to say it out loud or suffocate on it. “Always. I’ve been his since before I knew what that meant. He needs me, and I need him, and I am so lucky to have him. To have us.”

She jumps when Dulcie reaches out to touch her hand. There’s nothing to the gesture at all, just the offer of comfort. “You’re still a person,” she says. “It’s not about needing. I know how much you two love each other, I would never dream of questioning that. But you’re still you. You still want. You are allowed to want, Cam. You don’t have to want _me_ ; you don’t have to want anyone. But you can. You’re allowed. I’m here if you do.”

Dulcie smiles, baring small, very white teeth. Her eyes are sparkling. “Think about it,” she says, picking up her mug again. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

They both know that’s a lie. She is going back to Kent next week, and then back to France, and who knows when she’ll be back, or how much time she has left. These are the questions Cam doesn’t ask, because they serve no purpose. But it is also true, for the moment. They have five days like this, to do with as they please, and Dulcie is offering. They finish their tea in silence, interrupted only when Palamedes returns with the shopping, which Cam puts away to a duet of appreciative noises when she’s reaching for the top shelf and her t-shirt rides up to reveal a shocking two inches of her bare back. She swats at them both when she returns to the sofa, deliberately positioning herself at equal distance from each of them.

It’s not until after dinner, with the telly on and Palamedes half-heartedly suggesting they should watch a movie, that Cam pulls herself together. They’ve had Italian, including dessert, and with the taste of vanilla and caramel still in her mouth, Cam ignores the arm Palamedes has around his girlfriend’s shoulders to swing her leg over Dulcie’s, straddling her, and Dulcie looks so delighted she can’t help but grin down at her. “Okay?” she asks, because her heart is hammering in her chest.

Dulcie cups her face with one hand and rests the other on Cam’s hip. “Of course, darling.”

There is nothing special about this kiss; it is much like many others Cam has experienced. It doesn’t rock her world, or make her forget her own name, or any of those grand things people say a really good kiss should do. It’s just a kiss, and it’s lovely, and when she pulls back Palamedes is cleaning his glasses and blushing and smiling at her, and that’s that, really. Nothing more to say.

What it looks like is this: Cam, with one foot on the low back of the sofa and the other on the floor, her toes digging into the scratchy carpet, her head in Palamedes’ lap where he plays with her hair while Dulcie takes her apart at a leisurely, almost lazy pace. It’s Dulcie making good on her threats to fuck her to the edge of her wits and make Cam lick her fingers clean and then she does it all over again. It’s Palamedes eating Dulcie out until she collapses in a dazed, trembling heap and he turns back to Cam, grinning, quirking his eyebrow at her, and she kisses him so hard she sees stars. It’s Cam, deciding to be selfish, pulling both of them close to let Dulcie leave bruising kisses on her neck while Cam rakes her fingernails down Palamedes’ chest as she rides him, head thrown back, slightly delirious with ecstasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! I hope you all enjoy this - I don't know if this is what you expected, but I just really wanted to give Cam the chance to process a bit. I had a blast writing this, thank you all for the love!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was sparked by a conversation with friends on Discord - check out [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120746) by my lovely friend, who was faster than me, because I foolishly decided to do three chapters of this.  
> My tumblr is @darlingofdots, come say hi!


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